For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Sherree challenged me with “There were monkeys everywhere, and that wasn’t a good thing.” and I challenged SAM with “Write a piece in which a can of soda is of significant importance.”
There Are Monkeys Everywhere
The monkeys still jump on the bed,
and the sight fills me with dread.
When a monkey bumps its head
another comes to take its stead.
They’ve been jumping years, it seems.
This must be the stuff of dreams:
The flying fur, the high-pitched screams.
The bed is full; the mattress teems
with tails, and teeth, and screeching sounds.
A massive presence which confounds,
for when a monkey hits the ground,
there is one more to be found.
I have tried to get them out.
At first I’d raise my voice and shout.
But it seems I have no clout;
they’d ignore me, dance about.
Then I tried to call the zoo.
Surely they’d know what to do.
But, alas, that was not true.
The monkeys made fools of them, too.
Now I stand and watch them dance,
watch them turn, watch them prance.
I try to oust with pleading glance,
but I don’t seem to have a chance.
Despite my tricks, they don’t disperse.
The problem seems to just grow worse.
I wonder where I got this curse
which I now describe in verse.
The monkeys still jump on the bed,
and the sight fills me with dread.
When a monkey bumps its head
another comes to take its stead.
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